


broken

by remuspolaris (risolyandiwys)



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Depression, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risolyandiwys/pseuds/remuspolaris
Summary: “Sometimes a girl needs somethin’ like a mother’s love. You’re the closest thing she’s got to one. Seems to be the same for most of the girls runnin’ around here.”// in which madison is broken and cordelia wants to help her but doesn’t quite know how





	broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [echoesout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoesout/gifts).



> for nora. you’re a literal ray of sunshine and i adore you. <3
> 
>  
> 
> based on the prompt: “well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

As soon as she steps into the bar, Cordelia knows the task of reigning in Madison Montgomery will be a difficult one to accomplish. That much she had known beforehand when she’d received a text that served to warn her of what was about to occur, along with an address. It was unexpected and perhaps she hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation until this moment, when her eyes fall on Madison, who is tipping her head back to down a shot of something.

 

In the months since she’d been pulled out of hell, Madison had grown to be more responsible—taking on some of the duties of the Coven, assisting with teaching when necessary. She was so good with the younger girls, her intimidating demeanor enough to keep them in line, though Cordelia knew she was often soft with them. Not a word she’d normally use to describe the young woman she had known to be perpetually mean once upon a time, but it fits when she interacts with their younger students.

 

Besides that, she’s calmed down overall. Cordelia hadn’t worried about her as much as she might have needed to in the past. Where Madison had once filled her time with partying, drugs and drinking, she was now seemingly productive and staying out of trouble for the most part. She hadn’t needed to worry about her. And yet, as she approaches the bar and meets the eyes of the woman sitting beside Madison, guilt clearly visible in those baby blues even in the dim lighting, she thinks maybe she should have been paying more attention.

 

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Cordelia says to the bartender and takes the stool beside Madison, not acknowledging the woman until she has a shot glass in front of her.

 

“That’s some real nasty stuff,” Misty says idly as she watches Cordelia down the shot and set the glass firmly on the bar in front of her without batting an eye.

 

“How many has she had?”

 

“Six.”

 

“Jesus,” Cordelia says with a tired sigh. “And you?”

 

“Cut myself off at two.”

 

“Swampy’s just here to watch me have a good time. Maybe that’ll change now that you’re here,” Madison says with a wink. She smirks at the quiet protests from Misty at her words. “Wanna dance, Cords?”

 

“I want you to tell me why we’re here,” Cordelia responds, turning slightly to face Madison. “You haven’t had a drink since you’ve been back.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Tough shit. We’re going home now,” Cordelia states and stands, extends a hand to Misty as she struggles to slide off the stool without falling. She reaches into her pocket and throws a few crumpled dollar bills on to the bar and swats lightly at Madison until she stands.

 

“I don’t want to leave. I’m having a good time.”

 

“Madison…” Cordelia sighs and punches the bridge of her nose, then reaches out as Misty begins to sway slightly beside her and holds her steady.

 

“Sorry, Delia, just a little off balance…” Misty murmurs and straightens, and she links her arm through Cordelia’s.

 

“It’s fine,” Cordelia responds, then levels Madison with another look. “Come on, time to go.”

 

“You can’t tell me what to do—”

 

“Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is walking out those doors with me and going home. You don’t _want_ to know what the hard way will be.”

 

Madison looks as though she is going to push back, as if she is going to cut into Cordelia with words that she wields like sharp knives. Instead, she snaps her mouth shut and crosses her arms, her eyes not leaving Cordelia’s. Cordelia feels the thumb running back and forth over her wrist and tension slowly begins to seep out of her, but it isn’t until Madison nods that she exhales and can allow herself to fully relax.

 

“Good choice, Hollywood,” Misty says and reaches for her, slings an arm around over her shoulder as they walk out of the seedy establishment Madison had brought them to earlier.

 

The cold air brings with it clarity as they walk out into the night, which is mostly silent with the exception of quiet singing. Cordelia nearly hums along with Misty as she sings, but instead she just listens and takes quiet pleasure in her song and the arm looped around her own and the heat of her against her side. It’s a wonderful feeling, one she wants to get used to, but it’s not something she can linger on for long. They are approaching the house and the downturned lips and suspicious shine in Madison’s eyes has most of her attention. It isn’t until they are all walking through the front door of the house and are kicking their shoes off that she addresses Madison again.

 

“You’re not going anywhere. Living room, now,” Cordelia tells her, voice firm but gentle as the girl takes a step toward the staircase. “We’ll meet you in there in a few minutes. I’m getting you some water first.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Madison sneers, and the words are sharp but they hold no malice.

 

She just seems _tired_ , Cordelia thinks as she watches Madison go. Once she is gone, she turns to Misty, who is already watching her—and she looks sad, her lips tipped down in a slight frown and her eyes darker than they’d been before, but god, she looks beautiful. With a small shake of her head, Cordelia makes her way into the kitchen, and Misty follows her. She leans against the counter, watches as Cordelia grabs two glasses and fills them with ice and water.

 

“How’d she manage to drag you out to that bar with her tonight?” Cordelia asks as she finishes filling the glasses, sets one in front of Misty. The other one she sets to the side as she waits for an explanation of what had occurred earlier that night.

 

“She’s just having a really hard time working through some stuff. She needs someone to understand what happened to her. I’m the only one who can truly understand that,” Misty responds with a half-shrug, almost shyly. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her here, so I went to keep her company. She needed a friend, and I needed to be that for her. I still do, I suppose.”

 

“Why?” Cordelia wondered, setting the water down before facing Misty. “What exactly is going on with her?”

 

“We were both stuck in our own version of hell for a long time,” Misty starts gently. “I’ve done a lot of healin’, but even so, that’s not something I think I’ll ever be able to fully move on from. But Maddie… she’s _not_ healin’, she’s just kind of stuck, you know? She needs some guidance, and she needs to know she ain’t as alone as she thinks she is.”

 

“Do you really think I can help her?” Cordelia asks after a few moments, uncertainty clear in her voice. “She’s so… headstrong. She doesn’t accept help easily. Especially when I’m the one offering it.”

 

At this, Misty smiles and closes the distance between herself and Cordelia. She reaches out and cups the soft rounding of Cordelia’s cheek.

 

“I think she needs to know that there’s someone looking out for her, that someone loves her and will do everything in their power to help her find herself again—just like we both know you will, and not just because of your status. You have a good heart. You would do anything for your sisters, especially when they’re as broken as Maddie is right now.”

 

Cordelia nods and she prays that she can be what Madison needs her to be.

 

“Don’t doubt yourself, Delia. We’ll all do what we can to help, but sometimes…” Misty pauses and shrugs. “Sometimes a girl needs somethin’ like a mother’s love. You’re the closest thing she’s got to one. Seems to be the same for most of the girls runnin’ around here.”

 

“But not you?” Cordelia responds, lips turning upward as she glances at the outstretched arm attached to the hand still on her cheek.

 

“Not a chance,” Misty responds and then she is leaning in, her lips pressing against the heated skin of the other cheek. When she pulls back, she lets her hand fall and grins. “Goodnight, darlin’. I’ll let you do this alone. And, hey, if you want to stop by when you’re finished… my door’s always open for you.”

 

Cordelia feels herself flush and nods once, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she watches Misty pick up the water offered to her previously and leave the kitchen. The moment she is out of sight, Cordelia lifts a hand to her chest, feels the heavy _thumpthumpthump_ of her heart beneath her palm. And then, suddenly remembering herself, she picks up the other glass she’d set out and leaves the kitchen to join Madison.

 

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Cordelia says as she approaches Madison. She holds the glass out and, once it is taken from her, she sits on the other side of the couch, body twisted toward the other girl. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

 

Madison doesn’t answer right away. She takes a few sips of water and then sets it on the table set in front of the couch. She leans back into the couch, arms crossing over her chest again. Cordelia sighs quietly but says nothing, simply waits patiently for the girl to speak.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Madison says finally, when it’s clear Cordelia isn’t going to say anything else. She grabs angrily for the throw blanket draped across the back of the couch and wraps it around herself, making a point to avoid catching Cordelia’s eye. “I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry.”

 

“You didn’t…” Cordelia pauses to considers the pinched brows, the downright pained expression on Madison’s face. “You didn’t _fuck up_ , Madison. You simply made a decision that wasn’t good for you.”

 

“I’m not a good person,” Madison says after several minutes. “Every decision that I make is bad for me. I don’t know _how_ to make good decisions. I never have, and I never will. All I do is fuck up and ruin everyone else’s life. It’s what I do best.”

 

“I know it’s been difficult for you, but—”

 

“Difficult is an understatement. I came back from hell a different person. I don’t know who I am,” Madison cuts her off, voice thick with emotion. “Everything in me hurts, all the time. I don’t know what to do, and sometimes I think to myself that I wish I wouldn’t have come back. Everyone would be much happier if Miss Hollywood was still burning in hell.”

 

“That is not true. Madison Montgomery, you are worth more than the ugly thoughts in your head say you are,” Cordelia says firmly, and she has to blink back tears as she sees those beginning to slide down Madison’s cheek. “Silence those thoughts. Don’t give them a voice.”

 

“I don’t know how to,” Madison says quietly and when she finally meets Cordelia’s eyes, she can see just how deep the hurt goes. Madison doesn’t even object when Cordelia reaches for her, pulls her into a tight embrace.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you, and that I haven’t been able to see that you’re not okay. I’m sorry I haven’t been what you need me to be,” Cordelia says softly as Madison buries her face in her neck. She lifts a hand to the back of her head, holds her gently as she speaks. “I’m not giving up on you, sweetheart. I’m not letting you give up on yourself, either. I’m here for you, always. And if I have to be the voice inside your head, guiding you and reminding you that everything is not as hopeless as it seems, then I will be. I love you and I’m here to support you, whether you like it or not.”

 

They sit like this for a while, Cordelia with a hand on the back of Madison’s head and the other moving up and down her back slowly, and Madison’s hands desperately clutching the fabric of Cordelia’s shirt in the middle of her back. Occasional sniffling eventually becomes heavy but steady breathing, and the grip on her shirt grows slack. Once Cordelia knows she’s asleep, she maneuvers them so that Madison is laying across the couch, the blanket covering her. Cordelia leans over to press a brief kiss to her forehead and then she stands, turns off all lights except a single lamp, and makes her way out of the living room and up the stairs.

 

After only a moment of deliberation, she pads down the hallway to the door just across from her own. She presses a hand against the painted wood, the other resting on the doorknob. She pauses for a few seconds and then, before she can lose her nerve, pushes the door open and slips inside, shutting it quietly behind her. Misty props herself up on her elbows and beckons her with a curled finger and a dimpled grin, and Cordelia notes the absence of the jeans she’d only just been wearing—the bare legs and black cotton underwear that were apparently hidden beneath causing her head to spin just a little bit.

 

“C’mere,” Misty tries again when Cordelia doesn’t comply with her previous request.

 

“Is there anything you need that I haven’t been able to provide for you?” Cordelia wonders, and then she is unbuttoning her own jeans and sliding them down her legs. Bottom lip caught between her teeth as she approaches Misty and settles on the bed next to her. “I mean… you’re not… wanting or needing for anything, right?”

 

“You mean besides _you_?” Misty answers, words teasing but full of warmth as she drops back down to the bed and scoots down to be level with Cordelia. One hand rests between her wild curls and her pillow, the other tracing the strip of bare skin between Cordelia’s shirt and underwear.

 

“I can’t think when you do that,” Cordelia warns and reaches the the teasing fingers, catches them and brings them to her mouth. She places a kiss to each fingertip before letting go, unbothered when Misty’s hand tentatively rests on the curve of her hip.

 

“Is this alright?” Misty asks quietly. At Cordelia’s nod, she releases a sigh of relief. Then, “I’m not broken, not anymore. I’m in a good place. You made sure of that yourself.”

 

“She thinks everyone would be happier if she was still in hell,” Cordelia says, feels the tears she hadn’t been able to let fall earlier return. “She honestly thinks she’s worthless. And, god, she’s in so much pain. It breaks my heart to know how deeply she’s hurting.”

 

“I know,” Misty murmurs in understanding. She rolls to lay on her back, and Cordelia easily moves with her. “I can feel her pain like it’s my own. It’s always there just under the surface, even on what she might consider a good day.”

 

“Our conversation tonight was a start,” Cordelia says softly, her head resting comfortably on Misty’s chest. She plays idly with the hem of Misty’s shirt, the back of her fingers brushing against bare skin as she listens to the strong heartbeat of the woman beneath her. “I just don’t know where to go from here.”

 

“We’ll just have figure that out as we go.”

 

“We?” Cordelia questions, lips curling up in a small smile. She slides her hand beneath the cotton she’d just been playing with, splays her fingers out against heated skin just below her breasts.

 

“She’s part of our tribe,” Misty says, sounds almost breathless as those teasing fingers creep higher. They finally settle along the curve of a breast and she finds it easier to speak. “She’s a pain in the ass sometimes, always has been and I suppose she always will be, but she’s one of us.”

 

“Yes, she is.”

 

And as the rise and fall of the chest beneath her head and palm gradually becomes steady, and the sound of light snores reaches her ears, Cordelia considers briefly who Madison was before her time in hell and who she is now after a considerable time spent there. It won’t be an easy road to recovery, to replacing the negativity that Madison seems to radiate with even a hint of positivity, but she knows Madison is strong, and Cordelia prays once again to any higher power that she is enough, that she can be whatever Madison needs her to be to safely guide her on her path to healing.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be part of the snapshots series but it grew into this so i decided to post it on its own.
> 
> also to give credit where it’s due, some of the dialogue in this were things said to me once by a friend. i keep these words with me always. because it’s ok to not be ok. and it’s ok if you need a reminder to be kinder to yourself and to not give a voice to the negative thoughts in your head.
> 
> thanks for reading. stay strong.


End file.
